Turkey Gravy and Arm Fat.

I am working a seasonal postition at a call-center, and I have made a friend with a woman named Ruthann. We just laugh and have so much fun together. She reminds me of my Grandma (hi Grandma) and after I told her a little bit about my weekend, she said I should write it down in a journal. Well, this is my current journal format, so here you go:

My friend Amanda hosted a pre-holiday Thanksgiving feast, complete with all the trimmings! It was quite impressive and tasty...
After cooking a 24lb turkey, it was time to tackle the impossible. Gravy. In my family, gravy is the one item that is always done by my Grandma, it is like an art. Sure, we assist by taste testing, but really Grandma is the one who gets it just right. With that in mind, I wasn't the first to jump up and try to accomplish the near impossible. I sat back until I heard "Nicole, Nicole, get in here."
I went into the kitchen and found a pan filled with dark gravy, the texture of chocolate mousse. Hmm... Well, time to kick it into gear. We put the "gravy" back into the roasting dish, I said "my Grandma makes it right in the pan." We added water, salt, pepper and whisked to our hearts content. The first taste tester said it tasted like "toast," hmm that would be the flour. We whisked and worked a little more and actually ended up with something we were quite proud of. All the while we were laughing and enjoying the art of growing up. One person mentioned something about being really warm in the kitchen, but they didn't dare remove a layer and expose their arms! We laughed as we whisked, and realized that all of the whisking wasn't merely an art, but essentially an exercise for that unruly underarm jiggle.
So, cheers to the art of womanhood.